


100 Sovereigns is 100 Sovereigns

by SwiggitySwioItsDio



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Again, Alistair Theirin has made a mistake, Alistair’s POV, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, I tried to keep it a little realistic, Mentions of Arl Eamon - Freeform, Nude Modeling, Nude drawing classes are significantly less sexy than people think, One Shot, Short One Shot, Uncomfortable Staring, art class, modern!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 11:08:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20007313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwiggitySwioItsDio/pseuds/SwiggitySwioItsDio
Summary: Short on cash, Alistair decides to take up an odd job as a nude model for an Art Class. He figures he could handle it up until he actually makes it to the class and has to actually strip down. Trying his best to keep calm about the situation, he becomes temporarily infatuated by one of the students in the class. She seems just as uncomfortable with this as he was. At least he wasn’t alone.





	100 Sovereigns is 100 Sovereigns

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off an illustration done by TheRealMcgee on Tumblr. I’d link it in the fic but I lost the link a hot while ago

Alistair shifted his weight from foot to foot nervously. 

As of recent, cash had become a little tight. 

  
  


That was an understatement. Cash had grown tighter than Uncle Eamon’s old middle school rugby uniform. 

This was to be expected considering the expenses of classes and books. The price always felt heavily inflated considering how much his textbooks were actually used. He was lucky though. Some of his professors were definitely the “fuck the system” type and had digital copies of the books for free. 

But that was only one part of the main issue of being a college student. 

  
  
  


Food cost money, and currently he had very little of that in his bank account. 

And of course his idiot monkey brain would decide taking on an odd job as a nude model for a life drawing class would be an absolutely swell idea. 

It just involved getting naked in front of a group of what, 10, 15 students? All of which would be looking at his naked body? Drawing every little crease, every mole, every scar, even the interesting birthmark he had on his inner thigh? How hard could it be to have 15 sets of eyes trained intensely on his nude body for three hours? 

  
  


The answer was hard. Very hard. He tried to trick himself into thinking it’d be like stepping into a shower, but that was unbelievably far from the truth and he knew it no matter how hard he wanted to convince himself otherwise.

  
  


Still...

  
  


100 Sovereigns was 100 Sovereigns and Alistair wanted to at least buy groceries this week. 

  
  
  
  


He stood in the middle of the room on the small portable stage. The cloth he held tightly in his grip was the only thing covering his modesty, and even then that did very little. Alistair wasn’t  _ small _ , but the cloth was. Had he not been cupping the cloth very firmly to himself, he’d be hiding absolutely nothing. Of course in mere minutes he’d have to abandon the cloth as well. That thought horrified him. 

Andraste’s flaming sword he wished he hadn’t ditched the robe early. 

Alistair wasn’t listening to the professor talk to the students, but he got the gist of it. He’d sit in a pose for, be sketched for a few hours, then he could put back on the robe, be paid, and go back to his apartment. It was simple enough. It’d be hard for him to mess up something as simple as that. Part of him was curious to see how the other students in the room saw him as well, but at the same time he dreaded it. Alistair watched the professor fiddle with the lights for a moment longer before she clapped her hands and turned towards Alistair. 

“Mr. Theirin I think we’re ready. If you could please remove the cloth and assume the position, something you can maintain for a long time.” 

Alistair gulped. 

100 Sovereigns was 100 Sovereigns ...

He sat down on the platform, stretching out into a relaxed, somewhat lazy pose. His elbow supported his upper body and he knew it was only a matter of time before it got uncomfortable, but it was fine. He was fine. He could maintain this pose for awhile. The cloth was abandoned somewhere next to him. It was at this point that he actually took note of the students in the room with reluctance. All of them looked just as uncomfortable as he did, some of them didn’t even care. He noticed one blonde girl in particular staring at him with a blush on her face. Based on the dopey smile she wore, it wasn’t from embarrassment. 

This only served to make him even more uncomfortable. 

He wanted to crawl deeper into his own skin.

No he wanted to crawl out of it. 

Her eyes trailed up and down his form, taking note of every part of him in a way that made him want to beg to put the robe back on.

Her staring and his internal panic was startled from the door opening abruptly.

A girl who looked just a bit younger than him stepped in, saw what was going on and froze, heat rising to her cheeks. She looked mortified at the situation. 

“Am I...?” She started. The professor cut her off.

“Yes Miss Amell, you are in the right class. Please have a seat. We’re just starting.” 

The girl, Miss Amell, hurried to an empty seat just in front of him. With how he had turned himself, he’d be looking mostly at her. She seemed entirely unsure about this. If anything she was probably experiencing the same deep screeching hell of discomfort he was, minus being checked out by another student. Some part of him felt a bit better. At least he wasn’t alone.

He offered her a small, awkward smile in an attempt to reassure her. 

  
  


It backfired. It really backfired. 

  
  


She actually stopped dead in her tracks as she was getting out her sketchpad. She looked absolutely horrified, before returning a very quick, very awkward smile of her own. 

Alistair internally cursed. He shouldn’t have done that. That made things worse. They’d be looking at each other for most of the time here and he made it even more awful than it already was. 

“Alright, everyone ready? You’ve got an hour to get the basic shape down. Don’t worry about shading, just get down the shape and the pose he’s doing. Shading will come after. I’m going to start the timer... Now.” 

All eyes were on Alistair now, but he kept his eyes trained on Miss Amell. Every once in awhile, she glanced up at him from her canvas, turn a darker shade of red, then bury herself into her sketch. He was probably making her feel like she was the one who had laid everything out bare for everyone to see. That wasn’t helping. Nor was it helping him. He wanted nothing more than to just curl into a ball and hide from everyone. 

  
  


He vowed from now on he’d wear twelve coats at a time no matter the weather. He’d never show an inch of skin ever again lest he be reminded of the most awkward thing he did for 100 Sovereigns. Cullen was going to give him so much shit later on. 

At least he was smart enough to do this at a college he didn’t go to. He would rather die than be known as the ‘nude drawing class guy with the weird bunny shaped birthmark on his thigh.’ The thought made him shutter. 

  
  
  


Alistair’s eyes fell from Miss Amell to the back of her canvas. That seemed to help him feel a bit less awkward.

  
  
  
  
  
  


As time went on, everyone seemed to focus more on their sketches and relax a bit. For a moment, Alistair had forgotten that he was naked, though the professor turning the air conditioning turning on definitely shocked him into remembering that he was. 

It was quiet in the room minus the scratching of pencils and the occasional scrape of an eraser. Alistair could relax a bit, oddly enough. The focus was on him, but at the same time it wasn’t. It was weird, but he sort of liked it. 

No that definitely felt weird, and ‘like’ wasn’t the right word for it. 

Tolerable. That’s it. That’s the word. 

He glanced up at Miss Amell’s face. For a moment he was entranced. Her eyes seemed drawn to the hand that rested on his knee, so she didn’t exactly notice him staring, but he couldn’t help himself. She was cute when she was focused. Her brows furrowed just slightly as she worked. Her eyes appraised him with an amount of care he hadn’t expected in a class like this, though he knew it was because she was focused on what she was drawing. She had to have a careful eye when it came to drawing people. 

  
  


Deep down part of Alistair wished that careful eye was on him because it was him and not because he was a body to be drawn. 

That thought was quickly pushed to the back of his mind. That was definitely weird. What sort of sleaze picked up girls in a nude drawing class? If he asked for her number, that’d make him look like some arrogant dick, and he was the farthest thing from that. 

At least he hoped so...

  
  
  
  


The timer beeped loudly, pulling him from his thoughts. 

“Pencils up! How does everyone feel about the work they’ve done so far?” 

Had it really been an hour already? Maker...

The class fell into a discussion about Alistair’s body in a way that disconnected him from himself. Admittedly that helped him pretend he wasn’t lounging on a carpeted platform with his dick out. 

  
  


Alistair wasn’t entirely listening to the conversation, but he picked up that shading was next. 

  
  


He resumed the position, the timer was started, and pencils were moving. Alistair’s eyes drifted back to Miss Amell’s face. Her eyes were focusing on giving her sketch of him form. 

She seemed like she was distracted enough that she wouldn’t notice if Alistair was staring at her. 

  
  


Alistair was by no means an artist, but looking at her face, he could understand why people became one, or at least the romanticized stereotype of one. If he had any skills in painting or drawing, he’d want to capture her every feature on paper. She was beautiful in an odd, unaware sort of way. Though focused, he could tell that her guard was down. It was a wonderful contrast to how tense she was when she first arrived to class. She was in her element, and it was raw and beautiful. Her lashes were long and catlike, giving her gaze a sort of sharpness. Her eyes were a piercing blue that only added to this. Her lips looked soft and kissable, even when she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. Alistair wanted to stop her, to hold her face in both of his hands and kiss her. He wanted to nip at her bottom lip instead of letting her do it herself. 

  
  
  


Color rose quickly to his cheeks as he stopped himself mid thought. Now  _ that _ was definitely something he couldn’t do. He prayed to both the Maker and even the Elven gods that he would just  _ stop _ thinking like that.

  
  
  


The second timer rang, a discussion was had, then a third was set for 30 minutes for last minute changes and details. 

Miss Amell used all 30 minutes to the very last second making changes and correcting things. 

The final timer rang.

“Pencils up! Mr. Theirin, you’re welcome to put the robe on.”

Alistair didn’t need to be told twice. He scrambles to put the robe on, but once it’s on, he’s not taking it off for anything, at least until he’s told he can put his clothes back on. 

He jumped slightly as the professor puts her hand on his shoulder and leads him to one of the students. 

“What uh, what’s going on now?” He asks, suddenly self aware and uncertain about the situation. 

“We’re looking at what the students have done. I’m assuming you’d like to see them?” She says, partially questioning him. 

“Ah, right, yeah no I’m- That’s fine.” The student stood up next to the canvas, looking down at his own shoes. Alistair did a double take at the completed sketch. This student was closer to his feet, so the angle was a bit odd, but he was sketched in such a way that made him feel somewhat good for lack of a better term. He was reminded of one of the old renaissance paintings painted on the ceilings of chapels in Oralis. Part of him was in disbelief that that was him, that that was what this student saw when they looked at him. 

“I-It’s very good.” He stutters out, earning a polite ‘thank you’ in response. The professor rattled off her own critique like it was nothing, then lead him to the next student, then the next. All of them were interesting in their own right, though The blonde girl from before put a lot of effort into shading his dick. Was it even visible from where she sat? He couldn’t tell, but it was still a nicely done sketch. More students showed their work, and he thanked each one of them. Was that what he was supposed to do? He didn’t know. Finally they came to Miss Amell. It was no different from the others in content, but it stood out from the rest. In the sketch, Alistair’s gaze was soft and careful, but directly on the viewer. There was feeling and emotion in his eyes. It almost felt like Alistair in the sketch was looking at a lover. 

Suddenly it hit him. He had been staring at her face, specifically her lips for a lot longer than he would have liked to admit. Only now did he realize exactly how  _ long _ he had been staring. He thought she wouldn’t notice, but she did. Clearly she did, and now his little moment was immortalized in this girl’s, no, this stranger’s sketchbook. 

His face felt hot. He mutters a quick mindless praise before the professor gave her own thoughts on the piece. 

  
  


The professor lead him to the next student, but he couldn’t get Miss Amell’s piece from his mind. 

He was amazed and ashamed of it simultaneously.

  
  


It wasn’t a pleasant mix. 

  
  
  


The professor finally told him he could put back on his clothes as she addressed the whole class. Alistair our his underwear and pants on under the robe before he removed it and finally put on his shirt. The class was dismissed. Once most of the students left the room, the professor approached Alistair and pushed a pouch into his hand. Confused, he opened it. His eyes widened. Inside the pouch was a good handful of Sovereigns.

“Irving is supposed to pay you the full tonight, but you did good today, especially seeing as this was the first time you’ve done something like this.” She smiled kindly. Alistair was at a loss for words, but he grinned back. 

“Thanks Wynne. I really appreciate this.” He says, trying to suppress the joyous, relieved laugh caught in his throat. He slipped the pouch into his pocket. He’d move it to his wallet later. 

“Of course. You know you’re always welcome to come back. We’re always in need of nude models for the semester.” 

“You know what? I might take you up on that.” He says with a grin.

The sound of stumbling dragged their attention towards one of the students, Miss Amell, as Wynne called her. The contents of her bag had spilled onto the floor. In an instant, Alistair was at her side, helping her pick up her things. 

“Maker’s— I’m so sorry about that.” She says quickly, not daring to look him in the eye. 

“No worries at all.” He says calmly. “You know first day of classes for me I dropped all my books and ended up nearly cracking my jaw on a desk.” 

“Is that why you have the scar on your neck?” 

“What? O-Oh, aha, no that’s from something else. I was the one parents would use as an example to warn their children about running with scissors.” He says with a chuckle. A smile tugged at her lips, but she did not laugh. 

“I see. Wynne has talked about you quite a bit then.” She says with a small laugh. 

Alistair raises an eyebrow at this. 

“Wynne helped raise me.” She says, rubbing the back of her neck. The topic brought her some sort of discomfort. “Do you go here? I haven’t seen you around.” She asks quickly, trying to avoid any conversation about her familial relation to Wynne. 

“No I go to Denerim State.” He says frankly. Wynne clears her throat. 

“If you wouldn’t mind, I need to prepare for my next class.” She states. 

“R-Right, sorry.” He gives a wave and walks out. Miss Amell followed close behind him. 

“I have a friend who goes there.” She says once the door closes behind them. 

“Oh? Who? I might know them.” 

“His name is Cullen-“

She was interrupted by a girl shouting Alistair’s name. It was the blonde girl from the class. She ran up to him, a smile on her lips. 

“Hi! Sorry to interrupt, but I just wanted to thank you for what you did in class today.” She took hold of his hand with both of hers and slipped something into his palm. 

“You’re not interrupting anything, Camille. I’ve got to head to my next class anyways. It was nice talking to you.” With that, Miss Amell was gone.

Alistair wanted to go after her, but with the woman holding his hand, he doubted he could get away. 

Camille spared her only a passing glance before her attention was back on Alistair. 

“I’m glad you liked my piece. You know, if you’d ever like another one done, you’re welcome to come to my dorm any time. Just give me a call, yes?” She purrs. With that, she walks away, her hands slow to slip away from his. 

  
  


Alistair was both confused and speechless. 

  
  


On one hand, his mind was reeling. Miss Amell probably knew his roommate, or at least he assumed so. He’d have to ask Cullen about it later, but if he did know her... he didn’t know how he’d react actually. 

On the other hand...

He turned his hand over to look at what she had given him. On a slip of paper was her number, written in immaculate handwriting. Alistair’s face turned bright red. That was definitely…

  
  


Something. 

  
  


He took a moment to compose himself before he began the long walk to the campus parking lot. He had enough cash to buy food for the week, and by the Maker was that the first thing he was going to do. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


He leaned against his car and pulled out his phone. His message to Cullen was quick.

‘Do u kno someone w/the last name Amell?’ 

Minutes passed before he got a response. 

‘Yes. Why?’ 

His heart stirred in his chest. 

‘Dw abt it. Got food money. See u 2nite.’ 

Alistair slipped into his car and drove off, his heart feeling much lighter in his chest than it did when he first got there.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This was a gift for one of my friend’s lol
> 
> Am I gonna continue this?? Probably, but I’ve still got a big Blackwall thing I’m working on lmao


End file.
